Harlequin
by lonemalewriter
Summary: Five-0 face the island's worst threat - the '3 Devils of Pa'ao,' a criminal ring led by an ex-Spetsnaz agent. Could a chance meeting with their fifth, unlikely member, be their solution, or will it simply revisit Steve's darkest hours? Slash, Steve/OMC
1. Chapter 1 : Pilot

**'Harlequin'**

**Pairing:** Slash, Steve/OMC

**Genre**: Romance/Angst/Action

**Rating:** M

**Spoilers:** Season 1 and its entirety

**Summary:** Five-0 find themselves facing the island's worst threat – an organized criminal ring led by the '3 Devils of Pa'ao,' and an ex-Spetsnaz agent as their leader. Could a chance meeting with their fifth and very, unlikely member be the answer to all their problems? And Steve faces his darkest hours during his teen years. Slash, Steve/OMC.

**Disclaimer:** All creative rights belong to the original creator(s).

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Pilot<strong>

Danny sat slouched on the chair in his office – hand against the support, and the other holding a pen. The pen's plastic blue base was wedged between his teeth, giving the impression that the detective was deep in thought. To Kono, it looked like Danny was a hunched slob, staring at a wall, eyes glazed over, with blue ink running over his lips.

She kept it to herself however, though not without a smirk, and continued typing away at her computer. The time at the bottom of her screen read 3:12PM, and Kono recalled that Danny had intended to leave twenty minutes to run a few errands. No matter how menial it was, an errand, at this stage, acted like a much needed, temporary relief. Their current investigated could really be only described as grueling – Kono hadn't found the chance to surf at all in the last week alone, and who knew of the countless of hours she'd been stuck here for the past two months. Two whole months, and nothing had come up – no new leads, no trail, _nothing_.

With a sigh, Kono decided that at least one of them should get their reprieve for the day, so she got off her seat and headed towards Danny's office.

"Danny?"

Kono found herself raising an eyebrow when the detective had a klutz attack in his chair at the mention of his name.

"Yes? What is it Kono?" Danny replied hoarsely, clearing his throat in an attempt to look serious.  
>Kono didn't but it since blue ink from the detective's pen had smeared all the way down to his chin.<p>

"It's twelve past three now, and you should've been out of here already."

Danny glanced at the watched strapped to his wrist and responded with "Right!" before he leapt to his feet, collected his things, and headed out the door.

"Danny?"

The detective turned to the female officer standing beside him.

"You've got..." Kono pointed to her lips.

Danny wiped his mouth with his hands, then grumbled an obscenity when he discovered the ink, before he stormed out. Kono gave a brief, ephemeral smile before she realized that she was now alone in the building, and had twenty or so questions left on the report to answer. With an inward groan, Kono returned to her desk, her hand instinctively reaching for a pen. She then raised the lower tip of the pen to her lips, and chewed anxiously.

* * *

><p>Danny didn't really like this whole eternal sunshine thing that the island seemed to keep pushing onto him, but at this point in time, he didn't really mind it. The detective drew his keys from his pockets, and made his way towards his car, thankful that the next two or so hours could be spent deciding which milk he'd stock his substandard fridge with, and not on what their only suspect, Consuelo Alvarez Sanchez, had said before his death. It annoyed Danny that Alvarez Sanchez couldn't at the very least, be specific in what he said before he was shot – then maybe, the detective wouldn't have to slave everyday in the office like this. Maybe, they could've caught the killer by now.<p>

Danny then felt something solid and fleshy collide into him. Trying desperately not to fall on to the concrete, Danny noticed that a child had latched itself onto his leg. Upon closer inspection, the detective found that rather, it was **his **child.

"Grace?"

"Danno!" The eight year old replied with a smile.

"Grace..." Danny cited the name again, completely stunned by the turn of events. "What are you doing here? Isn't your mother, supposed to pick you up today?"

"Well I waited for her after school... but she never came."

Danny's eyes widened. "WHAT?"

Before the eight year old could reply, a male figure strode into view. A man with dark, russet-brown hair, a deep, soft tone of chestnut for eyes and a tinge of pink on his cheeks from exhaustion. Despite the man's current state, Danny observed that brown haired man had that New York air of beauty – the typical, broad shouldered, sort of guy that would be dressed in an expensive suit, and his face plastered all over the magazines. Even now, Danny expected to see the words 'Milan Spring Collection by Greta Vinini,' to materialize in big, bold, white block letters besides the man – for her certainly looked like he belonged to such an ad. A huff and puff later and the brown haired man faced Danny and his constricting daughter.

"Mr. Dartmouth...?" Grace tore away from the detective once she noticed the other man.

"Gracie," A look of relief spread over the man's handsome face. Grace scuttled towards him, and enveloped him in her usual hug – albeit, this one was slightly over-the-top, which made Danny feel slightly taken aback. "You know you can't just leave the school ground like that Gracie," The brown-haired man continued with a warm smile. "Miss Ayumi was really worried."

Grace replied with an apology, and the brown-haired man looked up at Danny, from his hug with Grace. Danny at the moment, suddenly found himself very self aware.

"Thanks for keeping Gracie here safe sir,"

'Typical. Danny thought, as he watched the man smile. The smile pretty much epitomized 'Prince Charming' and the stories the detective would often read to Grace. The brown haired man looked like he could just smile through pretty much anything – much alike when the Prince had to shove that slipper onto Cinderella's ugly foot. The detective made up his mind that he didn't really like this sugary, fairy-floss type of sweetness that radiated from the other man. It made him feel...oddly dirty.

"I'm her father," he said sternly.

"Ah, now I know where you get you get that cute look from Gracie," The man beamed at the eight year old playfully. Danny found himself a bit taken aback by the brown haired man's comments, but decided to remain steadfast in his hatred for the man. As if psychic, Grace sensed her father's lack of warmth, so she pulled free from the other man with a smile, and hurried back towards her dad, her eyes focused on his. Danny knew this ploy, and every time Grace used it, he found himself breaking awkward silences, and standing down. This time was really no different.

"Sorry," He finally heard himself blurt out sheepishly. "Grace can be...a bit of a handful,"

"Not a problem at all," The brown haired man replied, his hand extended forward in greeting "Cole Dartmouth – and the cost is thirty five dollars per child rescue." When the brown haired man did not see the look of amusement he'd expected, he added, "Kidding," just to make sure he didn't start things off badly. Cole couldn't really explain why, but he felt that Grace's father's didn't like him very much.

"Danny Williams," The detective replied, taking Cole's hand to shake, and feeling the soft, yet defined fingers of the other man's hands.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Detective Williams..." Cole started, before he reached into his pocket and drew out a smartphone. "But, if you'd just give me a second, I have to tell Nayru – Gracie's teacher, that everything's alright, and that she shouldn't have to worry about getting sued for negligence..."

Cole's voice drifted off, and Danny watched as the man's fingers slid over the touch-screen of the smartphone for a number. The detective then listened to Cole's explanation to Nayru Ayumi, and heard the teacher's sigh, and subsequent response of relief. Then the teacher's voice was cut off, and Danny heard a very familiar British tone take its place. Rachel. His ex-wife sounded flustered, and in that type of situation, she'd often distribute blame to anyone close by, and in this situation, that scapegoat turned out to be Cole. Before Danny could wrestle the phone out of the brown haired man's hand, and yell at Rachel to stop verbally abusing their child's saviour, the detective noticed that Cole stood there rather calmly, taking every word in, and looking like he'd received his weekly call from his mother for her usual check - up of his life. Very astonished by Cole's handling of the situation, Danny watched in awe when the man hung up his phone. Then he reminded himself that he didn't really like this man, and Danny forced his gaping mouth to clamp shut.

"Gracie, your mother says she'd just been running a little late," Cole reported to Danny and the eight year old, as he slid the smartphone back into his ebony black Greta Vinini jacket pocket. "She should be here in a couple of minutes...since it's her time to have you."  
>Danny understood Cole's slight reluctance to cite the final sentence, but waved it off with his hands.<p>

"It's alright,"

The detective then felt his eight year old daughter pulling at his shirt.

"Can Mr. Dartmouth wait with us too?"

Apparently, the concept of awkwardness and the 'third wheel' hadn't been taught to Grace at Sacred Hart. "Grace," Danny lectured. "Mr. Dartmouth's a clearly busy man, and I'm sure he's got a lot of things to do – exams to mark and all -"

"I don't have any exams to mark," Cole responded slowly, with a look of bemusement.

"Great!" Grace cried. "Okay, well you and Mr. Dartmouth can stay here – I'll be right over there," Before the detective could voice his disapproval, Grace had already scuttled over to the eastern flower beds of the Five-0 building. Danny simply watched his daughter reproachfully.

"So how's the investigation going?"

Danny abruptly tore away from Grace to glare at the brown haired man.

"How'd you know about the investigation?" He barked in question, eyes narrowing. Danny knew that since this man had come strolling along, he'd felt a very strange vibe – almost a heebie jeebie type of feeling. It wouldn't surprise Danny if Cole turned out to be some sexy New York druglord, or a sick, sexual serial killer who'd enjoy sexual gratification before he took their lives in the murderous of fashion. Yes, the detective knew that no-one could be _that_ sugary sweet - everyone had an unwanted perk about them. His, was his slight issues with anger – to Danny it was miniscule, and NOT the size and extent that Steve McGarrett claimed it to be. Now _that _guy had disturbed perks.

"Well, if your badge is anything to go by..." Cole pointed to Danny's right pocket.

Danny observed that in his haste to leave, he'd shoved his badge into his right pocket, and the golden emblem was now peering out of the side pocket. He roughly let a hand push it in deeper to avoid any further awkward situations.

"And the fact that we're standing just outside Five-0..." Cole stated rhetorically. "Leads me to believe that you, Danny Williams, must be a detective, and isn't that what detectives do? Investigate? Or do they just sit in their offices all day eating donuts?" Cole seemed oblivious to the fact that he'd just rubbed a pound of salt into Danny's metaphoric wound.

"Are you always this smart?" Danny lashed back, although he decided to keep his cool, since Grace was only a short distance away, and the brown haired man _had_ helped his eight year old out. Besides, a brief checking out – no, a brief **scan**, of Cole told Danny that the man was maybe a couple of years older than Kono, had no wedding band, and the fact that he worked at Sacred Hart probably equated to the brown haired man having to squat in some rundown apartment worse than Danny's with his a-fraction-above-the-minimum-wage pay. At least the man would have the love letters of his students who'd hit puberty early to comfort him at night. Danny almost elicited a guffaw at the thought. Still, the man's features, and his Greta Vinini suit did make him look like one very _sexy _educator.

"So what do you teach anyways?"

"You still think I'm a teacher? Hmpf...didn't think I really fitted the type. But no, I'm not in the educational business – the kids would probably pick up really bad habits if I taught them on a permanent basis. I was just doing a favour for an old friend – Nayru, who'd I'd just bumped into a couple of days ago. She'd asked me to speak about the criminal justice system – and I thought, why not? There's really no harm in breaking a child's purity by telling them what the legal system does to murderers, and it could be my pro bono for the year." Cole's tone had been dripping with sarcasm at the last sentence, but it still didn't stop Danny mentally slapping himself.

'A lawyer. Of course, that explains his comebacks...and the sexy suit' Danny wondered to himself where all the skills he'd picked up in all his years as a detective had fleeted off to. Cole might have had the upper hand at this stage, but the Danny certainly wasn't going to back down.

"You know, teaching might have been a better career path. You'll be doing us _all_ a favour by ending your ploy of keeping smarmy crims out of their prison cells. It's bad enough that this place is just a pineapple infested cesspool of crime – I don't think we need you and your people tying our hands and making life a big pain in the ass for us."

Danny expected the man to look hurt – even to falter, **anything** that would remove that playful smirk on his face for even a second. But no, the brown haired man just stood there, unfazed, looking like Danny had just finished telling him about a nice sweater he'd just purchased from the mall.

"Wait. That's it?" Cole raised an eyebrow. "That's the best you've got Detective Williams? Stereotypes and Boston Legal references? You know, I've been called a lot worse in this profession – hell, even when I was a four year old, and for a cop Danny, I would've expected better put downs than that..."

Danny opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out at that instant since his eyes had decided to fall upon the brown-haired man, and that playful smirk he had on his lips. It was simply infectious, and Danny literally felt his tongue fizzle up and went slack in his mouth. That was probably the guy's master tactic in court – make everyone to ogle him so that he'd win by default. "So...err, what are you doing on this pineapple infested island then lawyer boy? Couldn't get a break on the mainland?"

Cole ignored Danny's gruff tone. "I used to go to school here, well, that is before my uncle thought it was best for us if we moved. So I spent time here, and there, not really sticking to one place, before I finally settled in New York. Georgetown law, then straight to Delray-Stein, a pretty big firm, but...a bit too hollow. So, after my uncle's death, I'd thought it would be best if I came back here...for a change of scenery I guess. Don't get me wrong though, I do love the city and its skyscrapers."

Okay, so maybe the guy wasn't as bad as Danny thought he was, in Danny's eyes, he **may be** tolerable. The detective didn't get a chance to further test his theory however, since a familiar black Mercedes rolled into view. Rachel was here. Danny had to mentally rally himself for what would follow...

Danny watched as Rachel and Grace sped away. The detective, slightly annoyed by the turn of events grumbled to himself under his breath. He badly wanted to yell at something. And right on cue, the detective turned and observed that Cole was still in the vicinity – albeit twenty or so yards away sitting on a bench, with his smartphone in hand. Danny strode over to the brown haired man, who looked up to see the detective, a small smile on his face as he rose to greet the other man – ignoring the positively murderous glint in Danny's eyes.

"Listen," Danny barked, his hands waving about. "Lawyer boy, maybe in your kind's sick, twisted world that's deprived of morality, a normal human being can sit there and listen to private matters. But here, in the real world, there are certain rules and norms. You do _not_, watch a scene of that manner, as though it were some daily show performed hourly on the Vegas strip. Do you understand!"

"Sure thing detective," Cole replied. "But I'm guessing that you listening in to my phone call earlier would be an exception to the rule right? Anyways, there isn't really any need to worry Danny – I wasn't recording it or anything, I was just telling Nayru about how I'd left my briefcase in the classroom, and if she could drop it by my place later. And besides, I've heard it all during my dealings with divorce suits you know – the yelling, insults, using the kids as collateral, oh, and that time I had to visit New Haven Asylum for a week."

"I'll put _you_ in an asylum," Danny lashed back. "...If it weren't for that asshole Alvarez Sanchez, who couldn't even be fucking specific enough before he died..."

Cole blinked. "What?"

'Shit.' It then dawned on Danny that his betraying tongue had just let slip classified material. The detective then instantly backpedalled, and attempted the deny-all-mention method.

"I'm not an eight year old," Cole replied. "You said Alvarez Sanchez – the name's familiar because I was on voire dire during the trial where it was alleged that he'd extensively beaten his wife with a beer bottle. Marty was the lawyer on the case – I was giving him a hand since their senior partner had decided to jettison off to Pearl Island. Alvarez Sanchez told us a lot, and by that, I mean the turf wars, coke imports, but since you've guys have already dealt with all that...it should mean that you're still stuck on what he meant by the '3 Devils.'  
>"How'd you know that?"<p>

"The guy was having a nervous breakdown for a few hours – I think that tends to happen when you put your wife into comatose...of course, he wasn't going to repeat what he said, especially to HPD – and nor did he get a chance, since I'm sure you're well aware that he was found shot a day later after he'd been suspected of snitching..."

Cole rambled off, then awaited a response from Danny, but was simply met with a wide-eyed stare from the detective.

"Well?" Danny snapped.

"Well, what?"

"What else did he tell you!"

"I can't tell you any of that! I'd get disbarred."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me,"

"What? I thought you were a stickler for rules – wasn't it just a couple of minutes ago that you were preaching to me about how people need to adhere to rules and regulations?"

"So even when they're dead, the sons-of-bitches are still screwing us over." Danny muttered to himself. Eliciting a sigh, the detective raked a hand through his hair.

"But..." Danny's ears instinctively perked up to the sound of the brown-haired man's voice. "I suppose, if I were to join the your task force, the conditions would be so strenuous that I'll suddenly find myself so very sick...and who _knows_ what kind of things a man in a delusional state can say?"

Danny was on the brink of asking Cole what the hell he was talking about, when the implicit undertones of Cole's statement dawned on him. Taken aback by Cole's intent, Danny's mind wandered to the many hours they'd spent over the past two months trying desperately to find any new leads at all, no matter how small. They'd manage to find a mere one, and that, it all its glory, had led to a dead end. Now, here, standing right in front of him, was virtually the answer to Danny's problems.

"Why'd you want to join anyways?" Danny questioned suspiciously.

"Change of scenery?"

"Look Cole, this is a task force – meaning that a part of the job includes field work, and when that's with complete nutjobs like Steve McGarrett, you're often find yourself shot. Besides, this isn't some 1940s enlistment agency that any gun-ho amateur can just sign on up. You'll be a civilian casualty waiting to happen!"

"In that case, I think I'll just **mistakenly** fax my notes to your Boston equivalents. I'm sure Five-0 will look like complete dummies when a **mainland** division finds -"

"Okay, okay!" Danny shouted, hands waving. "Just...just give me a week, and I'll see what I can do."

"Nope. Now."

"What?" Danny shrieked. "Look, there are... procedures that have to be followed. It take time, I can't just -"

The detective didn't get to finish for Cole had already begun walking away. "Hey!" Danny shouted, "HEY!" The brown haired lawyer didn't stop.

"Okay! Okay... Fine... Although, you really didn't need to be a complete jerk about it...I think your parents raised you up spoilt, you know that?"

Cole simply smiled back at the detective.

* * *

><p>Kono sat glued in her office chair – wondering if she'd ever get the chance to ever get off the thing. She'd finished the twenty odd questions of the report, but at the moment of completion, Steve and Chin had barrelled back in, and decided that <em>now<em> was the best time to take another look at a few files. So whilst Steve and Chin were busy examining the central office's elaborate touch-screen computer, Kono was stuck doing it the old fashioned way – with a manila folder, and a written file in front of her. Although she tried very hard to stare intently at the statements given by Alvarez Sanchez's wife, none of it truly soaked in – although it was partially due to her exhaustion and the fact that she'd already read the files seven times before. So exhaling a sigh, Kono looked up from the typed letters to the two other men in the room. Steve was standing in his usual I'm-the-alpha-male stance at the computer, whilst Chin, who'd been asked to fetch a written copy of the trial papers, was raiding one of the wall cabinet in a methodical manner.

Kono's attention this shifted when she heard Danny's voice outside their door, and it went along the lines of "...and that's my office over there – you'll probably get the spare office that we have laying around..."

The detective, and the brown haired ex-lawyer then entered the room. "And here's where the magic happens," The former instructively told Cole. Danny's eyes then flitted around the room, before a scowl appeared on his face. His papers. The papers, that he had left on the desk earlier that morning were nowhere to be seen.

"What the _hell_ did you do to my desk?"

Steve didn't even peep his eyes up to look at Danny. "Well, hello to you too, Danno," He stated simply, head down, with his attention firmly fixed on the computer.

"I asked you a question,"

"We put your papers in a box, and they're now in your office. And for the record, no-one here has their own personalized desk in the main office."

"I always sit there when I'm working in here, you Neanderthal animal. You do _not_, just go up to a person's desks, and remove their things without their consent. Did you just skip the whole concept of invasion of privacy?"

Steve almost snorted. "I got it just fine, but I don't believe that leaving your work out on a table for the entire world to see, screams privacy to me. It's all on your office desk, and that's not even mentioning your blue ink stains all over the table, and grease from the masaladas that you chomp on. So if you're done being a windbag for the day, we've got some work to do,"

Danny growled, and was about to physically throw himself at Steve and beat his face in, when he heard Cole stir from behind him.

"Perfect name for him," The ex-lawyer said. "Windbag..."

Steve laughed. "I think it kind of fits -" The laughter and smile then faded when the ex-SEALs agent looked up to see Cole.

Silence followed, and Danny's brain started hurting from the confusion. What the hell was going on?

Chin then made a noise to the shatter the stone-silence, in that, he had found the file, and its manila recess and had withdrawn it from the cabinet. "There's also _tubsie_, Jersey..." Chin added, before he too, turned looked at Cole, and then froze.

"Cole?" Chin stammered. "Cole Dartmouth?"

The ex-lawyer's stoic expression then evaporated, and he looked at Chin with a sense of renewed joy. "Chin Ho Kelly!" He replied, before the two moved towards each other from across the room and fell into a friendly hug.

"Where have you been bruh?" Chin asked when they pulled apart.

"The usual, just arrived from the mainland. Guess you'd classify me as an outsider."

"Well this is my cousin Kono," Chin motioned. "I'm sure you'd still remember her, you guys hung out a few times."  
>Kono had always had a bad memory when it came to guys, and in this instance, it was really no different – or so it seemed, since she'd just stared back at Cole with her typical, I-think-I-know-you? look.<p>

Despite this, Cole still grinned at her. "_Kono_. No paper crane in sight, I see..."

Kono's mind then recalled images of a young, brown haired man the night before her aunt's wedding – where the two of them sat, and laughed as they made paper cranes for the next day's ceremony. She blushed when she recalled telling Cole about her future hopes and dreams – about how'd she wanted to get married at Prague...then how'd Cole kissed her on the cheek on the day of the wedding. Kono felt her cheeks reddened, but reminded herself that she was no longer a child, and was now a trained, and very disciplined officer of the law – even if there was a yummy brown haired ex-lawyer, she, may or may not had a crush on, standing in front of her. Wait. Did she just describe Cole as_yummy_? Oh good _god_.

"Cole," Kono grinned back, making sure she shoved her nervousness into a bottomless pit when saying the words. "It's been a long time. Why are you back on Oahu? We'd thought you'd left for good."

"A change of pace I guess. The mainland can get a bit...big. I've only been here for a couples of months, I had no clue about you guys still being here, well expect for Nayru – you had math with her back in eighth grade I think Chin – I ran into her at E Kipa Mai Cafe yesterday, then I met Grace, and she led me to Danny here...the windbag," To Chin, Cole had said the final two words deliberately – most likely as a way to gauge a reaction from Steve, who'd just stood there, oddly quiet. Chin had a feeling that there was history between them. Probably not a really friendly history, since the electricity in the room was simply... electrifying...

Danny, who seemed oblivious to the whole situation, decided to douse the electricity with his own words. "Would you knock if off?" Danny yelled. "Don't call me that – or tubsie, or Jersey, or whatever else you've got stored away in your disturbed brains. My name's Danny. That's D-A-N-N-Y, _Danny_. We've been here for less than five minutes, and you've already turned on me with _him_? Did I not just spend all that time telling you what a nutjob this guy is?"

"Nice, Danny," Steve commented, electing to ignore the situation with Cole. The brown-haired ex-lawyer also seemed adamant at feigning amnesia regarding any past dealings he had with the other man, and flashed the ex-SEALs agent a smile.

"Shut up!" Danny spat, before turning his attention back to Cole. "Since you, Chin and Kono seem to be best buddies, I'll only have to explain this to captain fishbrains over there... Guys, this is Cole, Five-0's newest member."

* * *

><p>Kono walked past Steve's office and noted that he and Danny, were once again, in a bitter argument with one another. The female police officer knew it was about Cole, and the fact that he was now a part of their team. She rewound the events back, and skipped the first half of the heated debate between Danny and Steve – the ex-SEALs member had not wanted Cole to join since he'd risk a civilian's life, but Cole took matters into his own hands when the brown-haired man told them he had a contact with the defence ministry. The ex-lawyer then called the guy, and soon, the team heard Cole being thanked by a higher, authority in his part in <em>People of New York State v RMG Pharmaceuticals<em>, which had curbed the illegal dumping of materials, in addition to his time helping the state out, in military court. The female voice then told Cole she would take care of all the paperwork, and that Cole was now, an official member of Five-0. Strangely, Cole hadn't wanted to speak to Jameson, and Kono distinctly remembered that the woman from the ministry had cited that Jameson would be sent an ersatz file. The explanation Cole had given, upon hanging, was that there had been a fallout between the governor and his late uncle, and he'd rather let sleeping dogs lie.

Kono continued down the hall, and her thoughts evaporated when she reached the ex-lawyer's new office. It wasn't really at all that much different to any of theirs, and the officer saw that Cole was already present – seated on his black leather desk chair, whilst Chin was atop his work table. Two bottles of beer rested beside the pair.

"Ah cuz," Chin greeted. "Cole and I were just talking about you. He was just telling me about how he'd kissed you at auntie's wedding. Care to verify?"

Kono felt her cheeks grow unwontedly hot.

"We have a lot of aunts, cuz..."

Chin simply stared at her with scepticism.

"Alright, _already_..."Kono replied, rolling her eyes. "We were just kids, and it was a kiss on the cheek. It was no big deal."

"Come on Chin, there's not need to pry," The brown haired ex-lawyer defended.

"Well, on the subject of love life," Chin continued rather wickedly, "What about yours Cole?"

"Wh-what...?"

Before Cole could untie his tongue, Steve's burly frame had entered the office.

"We're meeting at eight tomorrow," was the apathetic statement that followed.

After his many years of service in HPD, Chin knew a thing or two about human psychology, and in this case, he really didn't need any of that experience, since it was quite obvious to anyone that Steve was very eager to leave. It was here that Chin's experience would come in handy, for the ex-HPD member instinctively knew that there was friction between the two men, and in order to learn what that was, he needed them to talk. So, reaching for another beer from the remaining four-pack that lay on the table, Chin shouted "Boss," before he threw the bottle into Steve's unexpecting hands. The ex- SEALs agent caught it was ease, and Chin was aware that Steve would only stay until the content was the bottle was drained. And who knew how long that would be?

"Yeah," Chin continued, as Steve slowly twisted off the lid and took a sip. "We were telling Cole how'd useful he be if internal affairs or HPD refuse to co-operate again – he could subpoena their asses so quickly, they wouldn't even have a chance to lay out the red tape."  
>Chin wasn't the only one who knew of his plan, since Kono had co-incidentally elected to join in as well to help.<p>

"Cole," She said, eyeing Chin carefully. "You must've met Steve when you were here right? I mean, you knew Chin, so, you must've met with the McGarrett family at least once..."

Kono noted that Steve's eyes were trained on anywhere else but at Cole, and the brown-haired man was pretty much copying the other man's move. Still, the office was surprised when Cole still spoke.

"I had," He said simply. "Steve and Chin both went to Kukui High School, I went to Hana Haumana, a private school in Diamond Head. Our guys on the football teams were up against theirs for the regional playoffs. That's where I met Steve. Star quarterback, had all the girls – so who would've thought that after the match he'd come up to me and asked me out?"

"What?" Steve spluttered, eyes wide as spittles of beer soaked the carpet.

"Yeah, Steve told me how cute I was, that he'd been staring at me all game, how he wanted me badly he wanted me..."

"Excuse me?"

"He said he wanted to take me home and have his way with me all over his father's desk..."

"What the fuck?"

"When I told him I wasn't really into guys, he got mad and threatened to punch me..."

Cole's anecdotes came to an end with Steve's final outburst: "You son of a bitch! That's not true at all!"

Chin and Kono burst out laughing whilst Steve scowled furiously. It didn't help when Chin explained that it was simply a joke, and the ex-SEALs agent simply stormed out of the room, looking like he could've carved up a human body right then and there.

Chin and Kono turned towards each other, eyeing one other in great shock and astonishment, before their gazes fell back on the ex-lawyer.

"So what really happened between you guys?" Chin inquired.

"Nothing really, just a misunderstanding, that's all."

"Cole," Kono said simply. "Tell us. Please, you know us, we're a team,"

Cole remained silent for a moment, deep in reluctance, before he relented with a sigh. "Fine," he said very softly – sounding unusually vulnerable. "If you guys want to know, Steve and I had met before, except Steve didn't like me very much – no, in fact, he hated me. Back at the time, my father, my uncle, and I, lived on the very outskirts of Diamond Head – the lone house, that's separated from all other others. We didn't have any acquaintances, nor even any neighbours – my father, and my uncle worked ridiculously lengthy hours. I didn't have too many friends either, so everyone thought I was just a stuck up, spoilt rich boy who didn't deserve to be on the island. The Kukui boys particularly, Steve and his bunch of friends – they all hated me, and would always insult me whenever they got the chance..."

Chin did recall a number of boys that did behave like the typical bigoted meatheads, but he had always believed this to be the typical high school way of thinking. Steve had been hanging around a couple of the punks during his years in Kukui, and Chin had a feeling that from what the ex-lawyer had said, the chief point of contempt had yet to be revealed. He felt that they were just beginning their descent into the maelstrom...

"Steve particularly hated me," the ex-lawyer's voice continued. "They'd all hated my father and uncle as well, and one day, when I was walking home from Hana Haumana, Steve, and a bunch of his friends jumped me...then they started beating me up...I don't recall how it I managed it, but I was able to put a few of them out of action, before they rest came in... if it wasn't for Mrs. Ayumi driving by, I don't know how badly things could've ended. Mrs. Ayumi was honking her horn, whilst Nayru was calling the HPD on her cell, so I guess they all ran off. I heard that Steve's father found out, and he'd gotten pretty upset. We had to visit their place a couple of times, since my uncle and his father were in contact about a police matter... but Steve still hated me. Every time I went, he'd look at me in that way, telling me with his eyes that what he did was justified. He wouldn't even let me play, or talk with his sister Mary..."

Whilst Chin and Kono digested the harrowing details of Cole's past, all three remained unaware that another individual had heard every word of the ex-lawyer's. Steve McGarrett stood adjacent to the entry of Cole's office – his entire weight pressed back against the wall, a hand on his jaw, and his eyes glinting with poignancy. To anyone who saw the ex-SEALs agent in his current state, they would've seen a very sorry sight...

* * *

><p>"Yeah, thanks Nayru," Cole said as he switched off his smartphone. The ex-lawyer now found himself alone in the Five-0 Headquarters, with Danny, Chin and Kono all saying their goodbyes as they left, and saying that they could drop him off at his place. The ex-lawyer expressed his appreciation, but insisted that he should stay behind for a little longer to work out a few minor details. By the time he'd finished, Cole found that time wasn't being too friendly with him, for it had leapt to 10:12pm. Deciding that he had put an end to his share of overnighters with this new line of occupation, Cole gathered up his jacket in an arm, adjusted his tie nimbly with the fingers of the other, then headed out the door. The ex-lawyer then reached the double glass doors that marked the entry into the main office, and recalled Kono's statement that it would lock itself when Cole was outside and hit the pass-code beside the door. It must've been set by Danny, Cole had thought, for the name of the fatty, fried sweet cakes of Oahu, seemed hardly an appropriate pass-code for a task force. Rather, it just reaffirmed the ex-lawyer's stereotypical beliefs regarding law enforcers and donuts.<p>

Nonetheless, Cole was only a few feet away from opening the door, then leaving, before...

"Cole?"

Usually, a normal human being would've leapt out of their skin if they heard their name being called in an office they'd thought they'd been alone in for the past hour and a half, but to Cole Dartmouth, this rule didn't seem to apply. It was probably due to the fact that the ex-lawyer had identified the voice as belonging to an old sparring partner of his... Sure enough, the brown haired man turned, and found Steve standing behind him, the other man's eyes looking very determined.

"Steve," Cole replied in acknowledgement. "I didn't know you were still here...I'd thought everyone had gone,"

"I was waiting for you,"

The ex-lawyer was stunned and unable to respond. 'What the hell do you say to that?'

"You're not...walking home are you?" Steve continued, tacitly changing the rather awkward subject.

"Not really that much of an option. I could've ran for the bus, but I would've missed it by...oh, forty five minutes?"

"I'm heading out now as well, I could drop you off,"

"Nah, I'm good, the night air may be a pleasant change for me anyway,"

"Yeah, but getting caught in the crossfire during the Tongan turf wars won't. And they start right on cue at about nine forty five. I'm sure they were around when you were here,"

"Okay, I'll just call a cab," Cole rebutted defiantly.

"And wait for what? The early hours of the next day until they show up?"

"You know, commander, you can be extremely bossy,"

"That's my job,"

Cole couldn't say anything else, and with a great deal of reluctance, relented. He definitely was losing his lawyering abilities...

* * *

><p>They didn't talk very much at first, but as Steve drove past the streets of Oahu, Cole found that they'd talked about things purely mentioned in small talk, before the lieutenant commander shifted his spiels about the Oahu Sharks, and their play tactics for the season, to the death of his father. The ex-lawyer had expressed his grief at hearing the news, then told Steve about one very particular moment, where he'd seen Steve's father playing a game of makeshift baseball with HPD staff on the beach, and how young Steve had gotten him 'out.' Steve grinned at his, and Cole's recollection. The lieutenant commander then made another left turn, and knew that they were fast approaching Cole's old home. If he needed to act, now was the time...<p>

"Cole," Steve said gently. "About what I did to you that time...I'm sorry. I was a fucking coward, and a disgrace to the McGarrett name. I should never have hit you, or stood there watching the rest of them have a go at you - I know that you won't forgive me for it, and I can understand why, but I just wanted to tell you, that every moment since then, I have regretted being that guy – the jerk, who would say crap to you, the guy who hit you. I just wanted you to know that I am truly sorry for the way things turned out."

Cole didn't respond and Steve felt his heart sink slightly.

The ex lawyer then sighed. "Steve," he said. "You don't have to apologize to me about what happened. We were kids back then, you hung with the wrong crowd - maybe didn't know any better. Whatever it was, it's done,"

"Stop it Cole," Steve said softly.

"Stop what?"

"This. Pretending that everything's alright. Every time you talk to me, there's a buried contempt for what I did. Yes, I know what I did won't ever be forgiven – could never be forgiven, but don't act as though everything is alright, when I know it's killing you inside. If you fucking hate me, then just tell me, just stop this."

"...I'll stop when you do," Cole replied slowly and simply.

"What?"

"Pretending. Steve, you and your friends didn't bash me without a reason. You all hated my guts. You, especially. And now, we're in this pretence where everything is fine between us- that you still don't hate me after all these years. It's fine that you've regretted hitting me, but don't pretend that we're best of friends when you still clearly don't like me. This little guilt trip for instance – where you're driving me home to cleanse some part of you, you don't like."

Steve then found his body subconsciously pull the car to a halt – in front of the Dartmouth's family estate. Both men could feel the pain tearing deeply into them, and Cole turned away, and pulled the door ajar. Before he stepped out however, the ex-lawyer said one last thing, in a tone that was clearly hurt by the night's ordeal:

"What I never understood Steve, was _why_. _Why _did you hate me so much?"

Steve then heard the passenger door slam shut, and watched the ex-lawyer walk to the gates of his home.

If only Cole knew, that Steve had never hated him.


	2. Chapter 2 : Spetsnaz

**Harlequin**

**Genre:** Romance/Angst/Action

**Pairing:** Steve/OMC

**Rating:** M

**Author Note:** Thanks to SlowMovingTime, SG-Girl and francis2 for your reviews!

**Chapter Two: Spetsnaz**

The digital clock on the Five-0 central office's computer read 8:07 A.M. Assembled around it were the newly formed five-some that made up the Hawaii Five-0. The sun's morning rays filtered through the windows, and bathed a particular lawyer in a rather alluring light, but Steve averted his gaze, and the thought, away quickly. Typically, at this time of the day, Steve would initiate his usual banter with Danny, by mocking his choice of attire. Today, he couldn't really do that, since Cole was pretty much wearing the same thing – albeit he wore a mild, cobalt-blue shirt that was collared off with a matching navy coloured tie. To Steve, the brown haired man looked pretty befitting in his clothes (unlike a certain detective) and the soft golden rays that washed over him made the man look like some sort of hybrid angel in corporate clothes. Steve quickly brushed the thought aside, and stared at the file laying in his lap. Neither he, nor Cole had uttered anything about their angsty rendezvous the night before, and they decided that exchanging awkward glances and timid peeks at one another was enough to be dubbed 'communication' that neither had to really speak to the other. The file Steve held was quite comprehensive, and the ex-SEALs agent could roughly estimate at least twenty hand written pages in Cole's fancy cursive. Steve was both impressed and astonished at Cole's handiwork then reminded himself that he and the other man weren't currently on speaking terms.

"So what we're facing is one of the most well-organized and secretive criminal rings in the world. " Cole explained to force's original members. "They've pretty much covered the entirety of the Western world with their operations – Europe, then North America, now, here in Hawaii. What's interesting about them, is that they've practically left no trail behind – Interpol only managed to get a very brief cold trial, and the CIA are even further behind, so these guys are pretty much... ghosts. I guess, that's why they're being led by a three-some known as the '3 Devils of Pa'ao.' In Polynesian mythology, Pa'ao was always depicted as a shaman, or a wiseman of some sort, who could commune with the spirits. So our guys here, have taken on the titles of the deities the old folks at the retirement home might be familiar with – for instance," Cole ambled towards the computer, then typed away before two images flashed on the room's monitors.

They were side by side, and the left was a photo that gave the impression that it was cutout of an old, foreign newspaper. It depicted two boxers; one in black shorts with physical characteristics of an eastern European, with dirty blonde hair and Maya blue eyes that hinted of a savagery that had once coursed during the times of the Aztec and Mayan empires. The man was well built, and was throwing a heavy right uppercut at his adversary, in blue shorts, and had traces of cuts and blood on his pale face. The picture beside it was the typical image taken out of a tourist brochure – of which even Chin had recalled seeing once during his time at the seaside restaurant, when a family had asked for directions. The image was a stone statute situated in a park – it was a Herculanean man, upright, with a javelin in one hand, poised and ready to hurl.

"Borislav Chernov," the brown haired ex-lawyer indicated to the first image – his finger tapping on the boxer in black shorts. "He was a professional boxer who'd reached nationals in Dusseldorf six times, and won two European masters. He then served in the _Bundeshwer,_ the Germany military, and in the span of two and a half years, had been appointed as Sergeant-Major. Chernov was quite renowned in his methods of motivation, which often consisted of brutal military punishments. He's now one of the three – a member of the inner circle of this criminal ring, with the name Ku." The ex-lawyer's finger then pointed to the statue. "The god of war."

Two more images flashed on the screen. This time, it featured two women - or perhaps only _one_, if the individual was untrained in Polynesian mythology. The image on the left looked like a still from a Chanel No.5 perfume noire print ad, for it depicted a beautiful seductress, with long, wavy, Brigitte Bardot styled hair. Physically, the woman had the classic Grace Kelly appeal – with her luscious red lips, and her alluring Carolina blue eyes. An ebony dress was draped over her slender frame, and the woman was looking over her right shoulder in a classic model pose. The adjacent image was a photo taken from one of the island's caves. It was an ancient paint drawing – with black, red and yellow paint. Steve recognised the image, and the story that his father had told him that went with it. The black lines that drew a human shape represented a goddess, and the red and yellow that she danced on was fires from the volcanoes.

"That's Pele, goddess of fire," Steve heard himself point out. Everyone turned to look at him, and Cole looked taken aback for a moment at Steve's sudden communication, before he composed himself with a clearing of the throat.

"...Right, the image on the right is Pele, the patron goddess of fire and volcanoes, and that's the name taken by this woman on the left. Her real name's Nykela Bartley – the third daughter of working class Irish and Welsh parents. Her history's pretty grainy, but from what I've got, she's a 2nd Dan in bone martial arts, and a 3rd in Aikido - so she knows a couple of assassination techniques. But that's not really her area of expertise – she's a very accomplished saboteur, and has completed over twenty eight successful privately paid infiltrations."

"Classic femme fatale," Steve commented, reading over the file. "Who's the third?"

"Uh..." All eyes turned to Cole, and his hesitation. "I don't really have that much on the third – no clue about his identity at all. But from what I've gathered, he used to serve under the military of the Soviet Union – he was one of the youngest ever, to have attained the position of General, before he was assigned to work with Spetsnaz – the Russian Special Purposes Force. He's a very good martial artists – a 6th or 7th Dan in combat sambo, which is the Russian's military's specialized form of martial arts, and his hit-miss ration when it comes to precision firing is about 486-2."

"Talk about **double** tank!" Danny exclaimed, the crumbs of the masaldas he'd been chewing on spewing out at all angles. "And _Spetsnaz_? I wouldn't want to meet _him_ in a dark alley. He'd give you a run for your money SEALs boy,"

Steve simply stared at Danny.

"You go _all_ this from Alvarez Sanchez?" Kono asked in awe.

"Nah, he just gave me the gist of things. I pretty much went the investigative journalist route. HPD aren't really that bad when you're not connected to Five-0. It was either that or a case of tax evasion, I didn't come back to Oahu just to listen to someone deny charges of fraud,"

"Why is it that we're only hearing about these guys now?" Chin inquired.

"It's a bit... eccentric, but they have some sort of code of secrecy. If you're even suspected of making an utterance, you'd wind up pretty much like Alvarez Sanchez. It's worse if you're part of their inner circle – their elite agents. You'd be forced to undergo the Gauntlet, where you'd have to walked along a line hemmed by two rows of agents. They'd stab you every step of the way. Should you endure it, you'd be allowed to leave."

"Is that scientifically possible?" Danny questioned.

"Do you have any idea what they're after?" Steve asked, attempting to reign it back in to topic.

"All I've got is 'The Harlequin' – and if we're taking that literally, it's a medieval court jester of some kind. So either these guys have really bad timing and are in desperate need of an entertainer for the medieval enactment parties, or it's a code. Trouble is, is that I've ran it through HPD's files and a couple of other archives, and there's not mention of it being tied to any military history, or of anyone's name."

"Drugs?" Kono suggested.

"No," Steve responded. "These guys – their rap sheets, they're experts at whatever it is they're doing. Evading Interpol, the CIA. No, there'd be after something big. It'll be something that could threaten national security...we've just gotta make sure we get to it before they do."

* * *

><p>"What is <em>wrong<em> with you?" Danny's face was contorted with a look of annoyance. The detective stood with his arms crossed, and the entry of Steve's office.

"That's original," Steve muttered offhandedly.

"Seriously, what planet are you from?"

Steve paused for a moment. "Last time I checked, I was a little green man with a couple of antennae and living on Mars."

The detective ignored this, and initiated his usual hand waving routine. "Steve, I don't know how you army men behave, but when you have a new team member, you don't ignore and avoid him, and act like they're some sort of leper you can't wait to steer clear of. A civilized co-worker would say 'Hey Cole, how's your day been?' Or 'Hey Cole, did you watch anything good on the T.V. last night?' You don't act as though you've just had some messy one night stand, and it's the awkward phase of the morning after."

Steve gulped, and forced himself to speak - his mind blocking all thought of Danny's last sentence. "Water-cooler talk Danny? You really think that would make things better? Look who's talking anyway, you weren't exactly Miss Congeniality when we first met."

"That's because you're okay to be a bit...harsh to certain freaks of nature – such as you, and Rachel's mother. Cole on the other hand, despite being a bit annoying at times, does not qualify under that category, so you'd treat the guy **cordially**. You were probably deprived of that learning-about-manners stage as a child weren't you - cause that would explain a lot."

"Danny, would you mind not stickybeaking into the affairs of other people? What's between Cole and I, is private. Or must you play Oprah to everyone?"

"You have that look again you know – **that** look. I know you're trying to hide it, but don't even bother, cause I know what's going on between the two of you. Chin's mouth might be glued tighter that the vaults of a Swiss bank, but Kono was very prone to snitching,"

"What?"

"And right on cue is the classic I'm-so-shocked-at-this-revelation face. Come on Steve, give me some credit, I've been doing this for a long time. Can't say I'm really that surprised since I've seen my fair share of you, criminals, and the word torture somewhere in between."

"This was different," Steve barked.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Danny – are you going to stand there, and continue to talk about complete crap, or are you going to get out of my office so I can actually get some work done?"

"The latter, obviously. But it's not complete crap. I have a Darth Vader of my own remember? That's her alias - her real name's Rachel,"

"What are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything – although if I was, you've just confirmed it. All I'm saying is that Cole's new here – Hawaii's changed since he's last been here. He's got no-one to really talk to beyond this job besides a very uninteresting teacher and a couple of no good lawyers. If he's staying in this pineapple infested hell-hole, he, should at the very least, not have to suffer it alone. Now, the guy's not going to exactly be too keen expanding his social life if you continue to act like he's got the plague every time you see him. Just get to know him – who knows, you guys could end up being the best of pals."

"...Thanks... Danno,"

"What did I say ab-"

"Term of endearment," Steve reminded – his smile widened when the detective dropped his hands in defeat.

* * *

><p>Things really had gone along swimmingly – well, at least for most of the morning. The sun was now a few hours from setting, and Cole was walking along the pathway that led out of the Five-0 Headquarter grounds – his car was parked just on the precipice. The ex-lawyer felt a sense of regret for what he'd said to Steve the night before, but his heart wouldn't let him deal with that kind of affairs any more. Cole had learnt to shut out his trust in the world at a young age, and whatever Steve was trying, despite the other man's best wishes, it was the same Steve the brown haired man knew all those years ago.<p>

Still, there was still a part of him that felt guilty for not be entirely truthful with his new squadron. The truth was that this case was somehow linked to his late uncle – and to an extent, even to his late-father. Cole felt that at the very least, he should repay his uncle, and all their years together, with the truth – even if the latter hadn't wanted him involved. The handwritten files he'd distributed earlier in the day, weren't the culmination of street talk he'd collected – no, he's spent a very long time finding all that out. The ex-lawyer had been intent on solving this alone – he'd only wanted to see what the Five-0 crew had obtained in their investigation. Now, Steve...and to an extent, the rest of the task force, had complicated that. Teamwork and friendship? Cole was a lone wolf – that's all he'd ever known, and been...

A small sigh escaped the brown haired man's lips. The key-ring he held in his hand looped itself around his index finger, and the ex-lawyer found himself twirling the ring of keys as he continued making his way to his car.

"That's some nice twirling," came a tone.

The brown haired man gave the key-ring one final revolution, then it twirled itself into the palms of his hand, which closed tightly. Cole turned, and sure enough, the voice he'd identified as belonging to Steve McGarrett turned out to be the very man. The ex-SEALs agent wore the smile that previously, Cole had only found himself lucky to witness.

"Steve...just a...little trick I know... anything I can do you?" The ex-lawyer didn't want to explicate that his mother had said the same thing – even when she was sick, and alone on that bed..

"There is actually. I was thinking, that maybe you and I, can go for a drive, and... get a couple of drinks."

"I'm really beat, and... really? Getting wasted in the midst of an investigation?"

"It's the best time,"

"I dunno, I have a pile of wrinkled shirts at home just waiting for me to iron...and I'm not really a fun type of drunk,"

"I've got all the fun you need right here," Steve said, indicating to himself.

"...I guess a couple of pints wouldn't hurt,"

The ex-SEALs agent gave the other man a very broad smile.

"My car's just over there," Cole pointed with his thumb.

"Great – just toss me the keys,"

"Why?"

"So I can drive?"

"Wait, why are you so keen to drive _my_ car?"

"I..like to drive,"

"Okay – here," The ex-lawyer threw the ring of keys which Steve deftly caught. "It's the blue Audi,"

* * *

><p>Two hours later, and Steve and Cole were seated along the bamboo stools of Tiki-Tiki's bar. The establishment was a hybrid of eatery and bar - each with their own set of entries. The ex-SEALs agent has always been curious about the owner's choice in the decorations, for even <em>he<em> found the rows of Tiki masks along the walls - with their pupil-less eyes, wild scraggy hair and sharp, pointed teeth, unsettling for an evening meal. It was worse when one was under the influence - for the masks would come alive, and the little men of Polynesia would start dancing some very strange, ancient dance that only the state of intoxication could concoct.

Cole's body was only inches away from Steve. The ex-SEALs agent could even feel the warmth the other man's body radiated as the ex-lawyer laughed at a particularly funny anecdote Steve had told. The professional look Cole had earlier in the day had all but vanished, with his shirt askew, his collar splayed out, and his navy tie slack around his neck. Despite this, Steve still found that this not-so-in-control Cole was equally perfect to him than his usual counterpart.

"So, let me get this straight," Cole summarized. "Your very first girlfriend, a.k.a,Miss Bad Reputation, actually ended up getting hitched? And she had a baby six weeks after she walked the isle? Who would've guessed that?" Cole chuckled to himself at the very thought of Steve's first girlfriend being anything but a hussy. The ex-lawyer had wondered at one stage why Steve had such overtly clichéd taste in girls, but he soon attributed this to the whole jock-cheerleader stereotype.

"Yeah, mum would've loved her," Steve jested, as he took a sip from his drink. "Say. I've never actually met your ma, Cole – was she and your dad separated?"

"No. They were... always together. I'm sure it didn't seem like it to you Kukui boys, but my father, at the very least...did love her. She...suffered from a terminal illness – and the doctors said that she couldn't get better. It was no big shock to her though...it was almost as if she'd known all along. My father was very upset – and angry..."

"I...I'm sorry...Cole – we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to..."

"It's alright Steve...you...asked me earlier why I loathed Jameson didn't you? My father never liked the woman either – and neither did my uncle, although he'd never say a bad word about anyone. They'd always had this feeling that she was pretty much a washed-up, has been of a politician who was just clinging on to whatever authoritative power she could get her hands on. They trusted her as far as they could throw here. I'm sure you must have an entirely different view though, Steve, since she gave you and Five-0 full immunity and all."

"I don't really give a damn about that to be honest."

Silence.

"Well good, because it's not really full immunity. There are terms and conditions." Cole smiled back at the ex-SEALs agent.

"Cole...about what we talked about last night...I just wanted to you know, that I didn't do any of the things I did because of some guilty mentality I had. I know you'll have a hard time believing it...but I just thought...I'd just wanted us to start over...be like... _this_," Steve smiled back at him.

"I dunno Steve, are you sure you want to be friends with a spoilt, good-for-nothing, rich boy?" Cole smiled jokingly.

"My choices in friends haven't been great so far...so.."

"Ah, it's back to badmouthing Danny behind his back again is it?"

Steve laughed.

"Just for the record..." Cole started, as he sipped his own drink again. "I've already forgiven your for the...little altercation we had back in senior year."

The ex-SEALs agent almost choked on his drink.

"What? Why?"

"I'd always thought you weren't really yourself – and you and I were pretty much in the same camp when it came to neglecting fathers...although I'm pretty sure John had a patriarchal, acceptable reason for his behaviour...besides, who could stay mad at_ you_ Steve McGarrett?"

"W-what?"

"Hold on to that thought..." Cole interjected. "I've gotta use the men's,"

The ex-lawyer slid off his seat, before sauntering towards the dimly lit halls that led to the bathroom.

As if on cue, the bar's female server strolled up to Steve, and collected Cole's glass, tipping away the contents in an unseen bin below, and wiping it with a stained towel. Her name badge read: Tiki Tiki's at the top, with 'Renda,' below. The woman had long dark hair, and playful green eyes. She was staring at Steve with an odd smile on her face – it didn't take Steve long to realise that she's only opted to act when she had, due to the absence of a particular brown haired man.

"Your boyfriend's really cute," Renda sighed wishfully, as she placed one elbow propped on the counter to cup her face.

"He's not my boyfriend," Steve simply muttered.

"Oh...so..._oh_, you stud! Trying the old let's-get-him-drunk first heist?"

"Look...'Renda,' I'm straight, meaning that I don't get romantically involved with other guys, and for it it's worth, I'm pretty sure Cole is too."

"Oh please, hon. What is it with guys and their sexuality anyways? If I had, what was his name? Cole, stare at me like that, and being in the...easy state he's in, I'd be in aphrodisiac heaven. Unfortunately, his eyes weren't on me, or anyone else here. And neither were yours, might I add."

"I don't have to explain myself – least of all, to a twenty one year old bartender."

"Hey, I know a guy who studies psych. Okay? Anyways, all I'm saying, is that a guy like that is just one smoking hot piece of a meat, and I'll bet you my tips, that he'll get nailed down pretty quickly. Then, my straight friend, you'll find yourself regretting not having made a move,"

"Sure thing Casa Nova – I'll keep that in mind when I start listening to the emo music, or slit my wrists – or whatever it is you youth are up to,"

"Okay, have it your way – my favourite couple on daytime T.V just broke up, and I just didn't want to see another unhappy ending here today."

Before Steve could reply, one of the other men at the bar – and older gentlemen with a toothless grin and busy hands, held up his empty pint. "Renda!" he called, and Steve witnessed the bartender shiver upon hearing her name coming out of the dirty man. With mild reluctance, Renda strode over to re-fill the man's pint, leaving Steve alone on the stool.

Despite the over the top OMG nature of teenage girls these days, Steve knew, that deep inside of him, some of what she said was true. He didn't want to admit it, but his beating heart was enough proof for any jury to find that Steve McGarrett was falling...and far too fast...

* * *

><p>Cole had lied again for the second time today. Well the first didn't really count, since it was lying by omission, so really, the ex-lawyer had only lied once. To some extent it was true, he <em>did<em> need to use the bathroom, but that wasn't exactly the crux of it. He needed to get away – get away from Steve, and his... no – he shouldn't keep thinking this way.

Cole turned on the tap, and doused his face with water. The ex-lawyer looked at himself in the mirror, willing himself to stop the emotions. Steve hadn't changed, he was the same jerk then, as he is now – he reminded himself. In his life after the death of his mother, Cole had never let anyone into his heart – what was the point? When all you'd get was hurt and rejection, and that feeling of being used – a feeling he hated with every inch of his body. Only **once** had the ex-lawyer let somebody into his heart, and that ended in tragedy. Now, even when he knew it would wind up the same, the feelings he'd felt all those years ago were resurfacing...he didn't want these emotions, but when he looked at his reflection...the intoxicated, anxious...yet slightly _content_ face – made him wonder whether this was one time he could let someone inside...

* * *

><p>"Steve, I'm really not that drunk," the brown haired man laughed as the ex-SEALs agent pulled Cole's Audi outside the Dartmouth family estate. To say it was a house, was an understatement – it was, in all respects, a mansion – complete with an ivory black fence.<p>

"I can smell you all the way over here,"

"Then you must be leaning to close...I could've driven...not that much over the limit..."

"You, drive? Yeah, sure and let's wake up in the hospital from an eight week coma with all our limbs detached"

"Okay, thanks..." Cole pushed the door ajar, ready to step out

"Cole? Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"This is _your_ car remember?"

"Alright, settle down Steve. I know. I just thought that since I can't get you home, being... incapacitated and all, maybe you should hang onto it until we get back to the office."

"No – I'm not taking your car,"

"If you leave it with me Steve, I'll end up driving it drunk, and steer off a cliff,"

Cole awaited for a witty retort, but elected to act during Steve's hesitation, and the ex-lawyer pushed his door ajar, and got out. The brown haired man then bent down, to look at Steve through the passenger window. He grinned at the ex-SEALs agent. "Consider it my return of favour Steve...to say...thanks for today..."

"So first I'm forgiven, get to spend time with you, get your car, and now I get a thank you," Steve returned the smile. "I must be doing something right today,"

The ex-lawyer didn't say anything, then..."Hey, do you...want to come in for a bit?"

* * *

><p>"Hello sailor,"<p>

"Hey Catherine. Are you doing anything this Tuesday?"

"I've got a cute guy to flirt with, but besides that no... Why? Got something planned?

"Why don't we go for the usual? Dinner, then whatever comes next."

"Sounds good."

Steve's thumb brushed over the red 'HANG UP' button of the phone. The ex-SEALs agent was now at home, and despite the call, his body, and his heart had yet to stop aching from the events of the last hour...

Steve had said no. No, to the chance of spending any more time with the brown haired ex-lawyer who'd touched the very strings of his heart. No, to the very slim chance, that maybe – just maybe, he'd be able to claim the other man's soft lips against his own...

The ex-SEALs agent told his mind to disperse of such thoughts.

It just wasn't rationale. Steve was straight. Bottom line, that was it. The ex-SEALs agent couldn't love Cole. That wasn't the navy-man who'd spent all that time in the service and in SEALs. This wasn't Steve McGarrett, the intrepid lieutenant commander – the son of the respected John McGarrett, and the grandson of a respected warhero. Whatever his body told him, it was a lie, it was false. Yes, Cole was **nothing** to him. The guy was worthless.

Getting back together with Catherine would prove just how much he didn't care about this brown haired ex lawyer...In fact, it would prove how much he **hated **him...

* * *

><p>Nykela Bartley, or Pele, as her subordinates, and superiors called her, slipped surreptitiously inside a familiar room. She smiled to herself when she observed the only other figure present, and slowly slinked her way towards him. The figure was male – late twenties, had a darker shade of blonde for hair, and eyes that glinted of the Antarctic's cold glaciers. The man was burly in stature – well built, and had his arms crossed, his expression stoic. He had his back turned to Pele, and the woman continued to make her way towards him, wrapped her arms around his torso, then moved upwards – her head planted gently on his shoulder blade.<p>

"You know my feelings Mikhail..." She purred.

A brief moment past, then abruptly, Mikhail violently pushed back his arms, causing Pele to stumble back with a sharp cry. Steadying herself, the woman stared at the sentry-like man in disbelief.

"What news then?" Mikhail questioned icily.

"No further revelations..."

"My patience grows thin Pele...Remind Ku that he himself, requested command over the North American jurisdiction, and I am assured that both you and he, know very well the punishment that awaits for failing a self-volunteered task. Twelve men have already died on this island alone - and so be it in this pursuit, yet the Harlequin still remains elusive."

"Unfortunately, we've run into some difficulty,"

"Difficulty?"

"It seems that the island's special task force, the Five-0 are also seeking the Harlequin. But this should be no impediment to us - we've already have the island's governor defect, and I've assigned an agent under my domain - Wo Fat, to aid Ku. They should be removed in the span of two days."

"...No. Let this task force continue,"

"C-Continue?"

"You and Ku are focused purely on the destruction of our enemies – any peon of a soldier is capable of that way of thinking. What distinguishes the peon to a general, is how we utilize the enemy. If our agents are in place, and the governor has defected...then what news they discover about the Harlequin can be siphoned to us – at the very least, we shall have a greater scope of search."

"...what do you suggest?"

"Invite them to a social event at the Mermaid's Bracelet. You _are_ skilled in this area are you not? I'd like to see this 'task-force' for myself."

"Of course..."

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note<strong>: I'm sure we all know it takes hours for us to write, edit and proof-read stories, before they're finally published. It only takes a few second for you guys to tell me your thoughts. So, tell me what you think of the story in a review!


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